


How Griffin Spent his Summer

by randombubblegum



Series: shitty teens au [1]
Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, Summer Vacation, sequel to the theatre fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-11-19 21:02:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11321676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randombubblegum/pseuds/randombubblegum
Summary: (A sequel to How Nick Learned to Love Theater)Griffin started dating Nick in the last few weeks of the school year. Now, he only has a little under three months before they'll be in colleges three hours apart. But that's not going to stop him from making it the best summer of their lives.





	1. 5,443,200 Seconds

**Author's Note:**

> Not based on real life, not meant to be predictive of real life, I don't know either of these cool cats and I hope they never read it literally ever cool thanks

 

“Well, if it isn't Griffin McElroy!”

Griffin smiled at the woman who had just answered the door. Nick's mom had a casserole dish full of dip in one hand and a few gift bags clenched in the other. “Morning, Mrs. Robinson.”

She shoved the dip into his hands and invited him in. “Nick's upstairs. You're here early, there's really only family here right now. Did you get lunch yet? You seem hungry, here, there's –“

“I'm, I'm good, thanks -” Griffin fumbled with the glass dish that had been so suddenly thrust into his hands. “I actually have family stuff later, so I came early because I didn't want to miss it –“

“That's so sweet of you! I'll go get Nick, just put that on the table and –“

“No, it's fine, I can –“

“Nick!” his mother yelled up the stairs. “Nick, Griffin is here!”

“I'll be down in a second!”

“Nicolas!”

“What?”

“Get down here!”

“Mom, just send him up –“

“Nicolas Robinson!”

“What?”

“He went out of his way to come here early –“

“I'm not even dressed yet!”

“And you wanted me to _send him up?_ ”

“Mom, you _know_ that's not –“

Griffin watched, sighing, as his boyfriend's mother stomped up the stairs. Setting the dip on the table, he waited as he heard muffled bickering and then a door slamming. A few moments later, they both descended down the stairs, Nick in sweats and a stained promotional t-shirt from an E3 he didn't even go to.

“I'm sorry about him,” his mother apologized as she passed him.

“Don't worry, I already knew he was a rascal,” Griffin teased, catching his (clearly annoyed) boyfriend's eye.

Nick sighed as his mother brushed past them into the back yard. “I'm sorry about her.”

“It's cool. You know I only hang out with you so I can hang out with her.”

Nick laughed a little at that. “Thanks for coming early. Sorry I couldn't schedule it on a better day.”

“Chill out, you dingus,” Griffin smiled, shoving the gift bag into the other's hands. “Open it. Happy graduation.”

Nick smiled, digging through the paper to find a folded piece of fabric. Holding it up and letting it fall open, he immediately laughed. “Jesus, Griffin –“

“Noo, look at it!”

“I've seen all I need to see.”

“C'mon, Nick, there's more –“

“What?” He unfolded it the rest of the way. “Griffin McElroy!”

“You like it?” Griffin asked, barely holding back laughter.

“No. I hate it and I hate you.”

“Ba-be!”

“Where did you even get a shirt that says 'Helix from arms is my boyfriend?'”

“Check the back.”

“The –“ Nick flipped it around. “God, I hate you.”

On the back was a poorly photoshopped picture of Nick kissing Helix. Griffin finally couldn't hold it in anymore and started wheezing with laughter.

“Oh, okay, cool.”

“D-d-d...” Griffin managed to stammer out, “Do you like it?”

“No!”

This sent him into another wave of hysterics. He sat down on the steps, holding his stomach, face turning red as he gasped for air between fits of laughing.

“You know what, Griffin?” Nick asked, a familiar playful edge to his voice, “Maybe Helix from arms _is_ my boyfriend, because the one I have now just, just _bullies_ me all the time, and –“

“There's, there's... oh, Jesus...” Griffin finally wheezed out, calming down, “There's other stuff in there.”

“Is there normal human stuff I can show my mom?”

“Fuck no, dude.”

“Great.” Nick dug through the bag. “Okay, so... a pack of minion stickers...”

“I know you love those dudes.”

“Yeah, I do love those little... love when they say banana.” He set the stickers on the table and kept digging. He fished out some minion socks. “Kind of a minion theme to this one, huh?”

“Yeah bud. Keep goin'.”

“Griff, you got me a lot of stuff, are you –“ He pulled out a little silver packet, stopping dead in his tracks. “...Griffin, why are there –“

Griffin just winked.

Nick turned the packet over, squinting at the text. “Oh my God, dude, you suck, what if my mom had been –“

“They're green.”

Nick just turned to him, confused.

“Like Heli –“

As soon as the words started to leave his mouth, Nick threw the unopened condom at his face as hard as he could. “Oh my GOD, Griffin, I _hate –_ “

Griffin didn't care - he was busy having another laughing fit, barely swatting away the projectile in time. “Nic-o-las, what's the matter, why are you –“

“I hate you _so much,_ ” He asserted, but he was holding back a smile. Shoving the condoms back in the bag, he joined Griffin on the steps, playfully pushing him before settling down next to him. “Maybe you're right. Maybe I'll break up with you and date Helix instead. Helix wouldn't do me like this.”

“Aw, babe!” Griffin feigned upset.

“I mean –“ he pulled the shirt from his shoulder, flipping it over to the back. “You photoshopped _yourself_ out of this picture and replaced _yourself_ with a picture of _Helix_. I think you're trying to tell me something.”

“Yeah, you got it,” he hugged on Nick's arm, leaning on his shoulder. “I want you to cuck me with Helix.”

“Doesn't that mean that you're dating Helix?”

“Does it?”

“I don't know. I don't know anything about cuckholding except for Helix's sweet, green, gooey – “

“Griffin!” Nick nudged him again, laughing. “If my mom hears you, you'll never be allowed in this house again.”

Griffin just shrugged. “If that's the price I pay for freedom of speech, so be it.”

Nick looked at the shirt again and laughed. “So I went to school for, what, like, 14 years maybe –“

“Yeah?”

“I spent 14 years of my life in the pursuit of education and, you know, bettering myself, and all I got at the end of it was a piece of paper and a shirt from my asshole boyfriend.”

“To be fair, it's a pretty good shirt.”

“It is a pretty good shirt...” Nick trailed off.

“...What's up?” Griffin asked, noticing his change of tone.

“Nothing.” He leaned over, kissing Griffin on the temple. “It's just a really cool shirt. Thanks, Griff,” he said as he snaked an arm around the other's waist, “It's actually pretty sweet that you went through all of that effort.”

“Uh, no problem.” Griffin said, confused. “You sure you're good?”

“I mean...” Nick sighed. “... Griff, you know what graduation means, right?”

“Uh, yeah dog. It means you finished high school.”

“And it means we're _starting college._ ”

Griffin blinked at that. The thought hadn't even crossed his mind, really. “I mean, yeah –“

“That means you're going to Marshall, and I'm going to WVU.”

“Yeah, so?”

“So?” Nick repeated, aggravated, “so, they're three hours apart!”

That hit Griffin like a load of bricks. Shit. He hadn't even considered that. Three hours was a long drive. It was the kind of trip you couldn't make every day. Hell, when things got busy at school, it probably wouldn't even be the kind of trip you could make _at all._ He felt his stomach turn at the idea of not seeing Nick every day, maybe not even every week. Of course there were breaks where they would both be home at roughly the same time. But it wouldn't be the same as just being able to drop in on one another on the grounds of 'I was bored' or 'I missed you.' Silence hung between them as they both considered the near future. Griffin struggled for something to clear the air with.

“I mean... we have the whole summer.”

“That's just three months. I mean, three months is a lot, but it's not...” he dropped off again. “and you're going to be out for two weeks soon, right? On that island?”

“Yeah, but...” Griffin trailed off. They both sat, silent.

“... Sorry I brought down the mood.”

“No, it's fine.” An idea slowly dawned on him. “Hey, my move in day is August 15th.”

“Yeah?” Nick responded, gloomily.

“That's before yours, right?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Here –“ Griffin fished his phone out of his pocket and started tapping. “Look at this.”

“If it's that picture of the dog –“

“No, this is even better.” He turned the screen to show Nick. “Check it. It's like a little timer thing.”

“...Okay?”

“So, here's the countdown in weeks –“ he pointed to a timer which just read '9 weeks until August 15th.' “which kinda sucks.”

“Yeah, it does. What are you trying to –“

“No, look!” He hit another button. The screen now read '63 days until August 15th.' “A little better, right?”

“...Well, yeah –“

“And here –“ he typed something else in. “1,512 hours.”

“Okay, Griff –“

“90,720 minutes –“

“Griff –“

“and 5,443,200 seconds.” Griffin turned his phone off and turned to his boyfriend. “Which is kinda a lot of them.”

Nick just looked at him for a minute, then laughed. “You're so... you're such a nerd.”

“Nic-o-las, that's _hurtful,_ ” he mock-complained.

“... Thanks, Griff.” He smiled, leaning against the other. “That honestly... that does kinda help.” He fished his phone out of his pocket and handed it over. “Can you do that on mine?”

“Sure thing, bud.” Griffin installed the app and set the timer. “You done being sad?”

Nick smiled. “Yeah.”

“Good, cause I have to go.” Griffin untangled himself from the other's arms, leaning down and giving him a kiss. “I'll see you tomorrow. Tell your family I say hi.”

“I will.” Nick smiled, that little lopsided one that made Griffin want to sit on the steps with him forever. But instead, he ruffled his hair and turned out the door.

9 weeks.

As he drove home, he worried that it wouldn't be enough.

 

 


	2. On Tybee Island

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey, Griff?”  
> “What's up?”  
> “Is your dad always like this?”

“Dad-dy...”

“No.”

_“Dad-dy...”_

“Why does he need to come with us?”

“Because –“ Griffin searched for a reason.

“He doesn't.” His father stabbed a fork into his potato, then pointed it at his son accusingly. “Why can't you just spend time with your family?”

“Because...” Griffin trailed off, not wanting to start a fight.

“Listen, Ditto,” he said, softening, “I want you to have fun on this trip too, but it's always been a family thing, okay?”

“What about... Travis brought his girlfriend last year!”

“That's different.” his father took a bite, then spoke through his mouthful. “That was a serious relationship.”

“Me and Nick are serious...” Griffin muttered.

“Seriously gross,” Travis added from the other seat at the table, earning a laugh from his father and a glare from his brother.

The point of Nick coming along on their annual family vacation to Tybee island had been one of serious contention for the past few days. His father had hated the idea from the second he'd mentioned it. Griffin had no idea why – it wouldn't cost much extra, and he'd figured out the whole room situation. Remembering this point, he launched back into the argument.

“I don't see why he can't come. We can just share a room.”

“Griffin, why are you saying that like it's a good idea?” Travis ribbed.

“Okay, fine, whatever!” he was starting to get fed up with his brother's comments. “I'll sleep on the floor.”

“No,” his father asserted. “It's a family trip. It's always been a family trip.”

“But...” Griffin dropped off, idly stirring the contents of his plate around.

The table was silent for a while. Griffin looked up at his brother, begging with his eyes for him to do something. He knew that his dad would give in easier if he was outnumbered. Travis looked back, at first cold to the idea, then sighed.

“... Daddy?” Travis suddenly asked. “I don't have a problem with him coming with.”

Griffin smiled. Write this one down in the history books – Travis was actually trying to help his little brother out with something.

“I mean, they've been dating for, what, about a month?” Travis ran his fingers through his beard. “And he offered to sleep on the ground to stay out of his room. If I can get a no-gross-couple-stuff guarantee from both of them, I wouldn't mind if he joined us.”

Griffin smiled, turning to his dad. His brow was furrowed and he looked like he was in thought. “I don't know. Maybe. I'll call Justin, but...” he turned and saw his son, looking up at him and practically begging. “Okay, cut it out! I'll call Justin after dinner, and if he agrees, then... Nick can come with us.”

“Thanks, daddy.” He turned at Travis, who gave him a look that said _you owe me._

 

“Round twelve?”

“Why, so you can – so you can just win again?”

Griffin just shrugged. “Here, I'll start it, just –“ he looked over as Nick snapped his 3DS shut. “Hey!”

“I'm tired. I don't wanna play pokemon anymore.” Nick yawned, snuggling down into his boyfriend's shoulder, when he was snapped to attention by another voice.

“So, Nick...” Griffin's father started from the front seat. “You're excited for Tybee island?”

Nick hummed a yes. “Thanks for letting me come with, Mr. McElroy –“

“Aww, kiddo, call me Clint.” he merged over into the other lane, eyes flicking up to look at the kid in the backseat. “You've met Justin?”

“Yeah, he went to You Can't Take it With You, he seemed pretty –“

“And now you've met Travis.”

“Uh...” Nick paused, glancing at Griffin, seemingly asking if he was doing this right. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Hey buddy,” Travis offered.

“Hey.”

“But you've never met Syndee,” Clint said, an accusatory edge to his voice.

“I... no, I haven't.”

“Daddy, how would he have met her?” Griffin asked cautiously.

“I'm not saying he should have! I'm just saying he hasn't,” he said, eyes flicking up to look at the now considerably more nervous kid in his backseat. “You know about the sleeping arrangements?”

_“Daddy –“_

“I'm in the upstairs bedroom,” Nick started, slightly startling Griffin, “once I go to bed for the night I'm not supposed to come down again, and if I have to I'm not allowed to go to the living room where Griffin is sleeping.”

Clint was silent for a second, then he just nodded and turned back to the road. “Alright, kiddo.”

Griffin looked at his boyfriend, mouthing a 'what the fuck?'

Nick just shrugged back at him.

Well, whatever worked.

 

“Griffin, come help clean the kitchen!”

Griffin sighed in annoyance. He had literally just sat back down, Nick had literally just roped an arm around him – but he just wriggled out of the embrace and stood back up to help. It had been like this all week. A rule that Griffin hadn't had to follow since he was 12 had been reinstated – if you go anywhere without daddy, you go in a group of three. And it wasn't better at their little rented house. Every single time they sat down within a foot of each other, there was suddenly a chore that needed to be done. And it wasn't like he was going to kiss his boyfriend in front of his family, he knew them, that would only mean twenty solid minutes of teasing. They'd been reduced to hand-holding and the occasional cuddle, which, don't get it twisted, was great! But he missed being able to just sit and talk, even, without feeling eyes on them.

Griffin picked up a towel and started drying the dishes Justin handed him. As soon as his father left the kitchen, his brother leaned down and dropped his voice. “Now you know how I felt.”

“I don't get why he's acting like this,” Griffin whispered back. “He's never like this!”

“You've never brought anyone to Tybee island.” Justin handed him a pan. “Daddy's just protective of family time.”

“I know, but...” Griffin trailed off. “I don't know. It's not like I wanted this to be, like a crazy sex vacation, but I wanted it to be a maybe-I-can-hang-out-with-my-boyfriend-sometimes one.”

“Sorry, Ditto,” Justin shrugged, “I don't know what to tell you.”

“I'd like to, I dunno, maybe smootch him? Once? It's been a week,” Griffin griped as he stored the pan in a drawer. “You and Sydnee don't get shit over it.”

“It's because we're engaged.”

“Yeah, but you didn't even catch shit the first year you brought her here!”

“Because we were adults.”

“I'm legally an adult!”

Justin laughed at that. “C'mon, Ditto. It's one more week. You're having fun, right?”

“I mean...” Griffin trailed off. “Yeah.”

“You missed me and Travis?”

“...Yeah.”

“Then just chill and enjoy it. Get on island time, baby.”

Griffin laughed at that. “Okay, fine, yeah... okay. You're right, Juice.”

Justin ruffled his hair. Griffin swatted his hand away, smiling. As he finished up the dishes, Nick appeared in the doorway, looking a little frazzled himself. Justin shot his little brother and understanding glance and went back out to join the others, leaving them be.

“Hey, Griff?”

“What's up?”

“Is your dad always like this?”

Griffin just shrugged. “Sorry if he's giving you shit.”

“No, it's fine, just –“ Nick shrugged, sheepish. “I wish we had a little more alone time.”

He sighed. “Me too, bud.”

“Maybe we can...” Nick suddenly trailed off.

Griffin quickly glanced towards the living room, where his family was distracted by the TV, then back to Nick. “Maybe we can what?”

“Just... there's a closet down here, right? You know the closet?”

“Of course I know the closet.”

“It's kinda... spacey, for a closet.”

“... I'm listening.”

Nick threw another glance at the living room, then dropped his voice lower. “I didn't, y'know, bring stuff, but _literally,_ Griffin, I just want to, I don't know _cuddle?_ Maybe kiss you? We don't have to –“

“No, no, yeah, I know, I don't want to get too buckwild either, my dad would hear –“

“Yeah. Okay. Okay.” Nick sighed. “So do we...”

“My dad will be asleep by midnight. Just sneak down.”

“I... okay.”

“Nick... listen,” Griffin nearly whispered, eyes incredibly serious.

“Uh... yeah?”

“I'm gonna smootch the _fuck_ outta you, bro.”

 

“Hold on, scootch –“

“I can't, there's a stack of towels –“

“Then move the towels, ding-dong.”

Nick did as he was told, carefully shifting the neatly-folded towels back a few feet. “Okay, is that...” he didn't finish his sentence before Griffin pounced on him.

Nick, of course, pushed back in turn. They kissed like they hadn't seen each other in _months_ – frenzied, grabbing at each other, completely forgetting the whole 'maybe we'll just cuddle' thing. Nick's back hit the wall with a dull thud that froze them both for a second. They listened, waiting for footsteps, but none came, so Griffin instead pulled back and moved down Nick's jaw, kissing him hard right under the ear.

“Griff, Griff –“ Nick hissed out, “Bruises. Don't leave bruises.”

He only hummed in response, moving further down his neck, every now and then nipping at it with only enough force to pinch a little. But by the time he reached the crook of his neck, the temptation was too much, and he bit down with enough force to solicit a little yip of pain that in the otherwise silent house felt like it must have carried for miles. Nick clapped a hand over his mouth and stared down at the other in horror. Griffin felt pins of anxiety travel down his back, and the two were silent again – but once again, there were no footsteps. It was Nick who moved first this time. “Take it back, like... twenty notches,” he whispered, hands slowly traveling up from Griffin's hips, who just nodded and straightened up to kiss him normally again. This time, they went a little slower, Nick's hands ghosting up his sides and pressing a thumb into the small pocket of chub on his stomach. “Boop.”

“Ew, cut it out, you weirdo.”

“I like it,” Nick admitted, kissing the other on the cheek. Griffin felt his stubble and shivered a little. His boyfriend pressed another thumb into his stomach and giggled. “Boop.”

“Nic-o-las, you're so...” Griffin was cut off by his own giggling. “Stop. That kinda –“

Nick did it again, soliciting another giggle. “Tickles?”

“You'd better –“ once again, he couldn't finish his sentence. “Stop!”

“Okay, okay, shh...” He kissed the other's cheek again, smiling. “I missed this.”

“It's only been a week, doofus.”

“Yeah, but it was a long one.”

“Aw, you don't like the McElroy clan?”

“No, no, you know I didn't mean that,” he brought his hands up to Griffin's face and pulled their foreheads together. “I missed this kinda stuff.”

“You're such a sap,” Griffin teased.

“Shut up. You suck. I'm never being nice to you again.”

“Aww, ba-be...”

“Sorry Griffin, but I can't afford to be a sap! I'm too manly!”

“No you aren't,” Griffin teased, burying his head in his chest.

“Yeah, I'm not.”

They soon transitioned to the floor, Nick running his fingers through Griffin's hair as he sat with his head in his lap, Griffin absolutely melting into it.

Nick's fingers slowed suddenly, as if he was distracted. “Hey, Griff?”

“Yeah bud?”

“I'm still worried about college.”

Griffin felt his stomach drop. He sighed, looking up to meet Nick's eye. “Boy, you sure know how to bring a mood down.”

“Sorry.”

“Yeah, I...” Griffin sighed again, trying to think of what to say. “I am too.”

“I don't know what I'm gonna do if every week is like this one.”

He winced. The thought was almost painful. “I don't either.”

“We have seven weeks left.”

“How many seconds?”

“I don't feel like getting my phone.”

“Me either.”

“Want me to go back to playing with your hair and forget about it?”

“...Yeah.”

They went to bed soon after, with one more kiss before Nick went upstairs and Griffin tucked himself into the couch. He stared at the ceiling for a while. What would it be like, with every week like this one? What would it be like with him nearly a state away? The ceiling didn't have an answer for him. So instead, he turned back over, and pretended to fall asleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, enjoy, criticism welcome, keep it real


	3. A Bag of Natty Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I wanna go there with you... and we could just be there, for like, a week... live in a hotel together... or in, or in a tent... sleep on the grass... you n' me, Griff...”

There are downsides to your brother coming back from school for the summer. Going back to sharing a bathroom, having to wait your turn on the Xbox, being stuck at home when he needs the car – but there are also some upsides.

“Why did he buy this for us, again?”

Griffin shrugged, digging through the bag of loose cans. “He just said they were left over.”

“And he didn't want to keep them?”

Griffin shrugged again.

They were sitting in the usual clearing behind his house. It was roughly a week after they had returned from vacation, falling back into their normal summer routines of doing nothing with an occasional side of video games. Nick turned the can over in his hands, wary and seemingly a little nervous. “It's kinda weird that I've done the super illegal thing already, but not this, which I'm a few years away from just, y'know, being able to do.”

“We don't have to if you don't want to. I've only done it... I dunno, once or twice?” Griffin finally made his selection. “It's honestly not even as fun as weed.”

“What are you, some, some kinda... drug critic?” Nick teased.

Griffin laughed a little at that. “God, I know, I probably sound like one of those douchebags who always brags about doing a big drug.”

“Yeah, Griff. You're a bad influence.”

“Yeah.” Griffin made his voice gravely, shutting one eye and hunching over slightly. “Hey, boys, it's me, Griffin, professional... professional drug boy, and –“

“Now what does a professional drug boy do?” Nick asked, pulling the tab on his beer.

“I mean... I mean...” Griffin dropped the voice. “I guess that's probably just a drug dealer, huh?” He popped his own tab, hearing it hiss in a way not unlike a regular can of soda. “Wait, shit, what's today?”

“July 17th, right?”

“No, no – the day day. Like Monday and stuff.”

“Oh.” He checked his phone. “It's Saturday.”

“You know what we're doing then, Nicolas?”

“We're...” It dawned on him. “Oh my God, shut up, you fuckin –“

“Looks like we might be crackin' open a cold one –“

“That meme is dead, Griffin!”

“Just crackin open a frosty brew...”

“Griffin.”

“A positively _freezing_ can of that good good cold stuff...”

“Griffin!”

“Okay, fine, I'm done. I hate fun too, Nick.”

“You suck.” Nick took a sip, and his face immediately soured. “Oh, yucky.”

“Is it not good?”

Nick shook his head, nose crinkled in disgust as he twisted the can into the dirt so it would stay up. “It's very bad.”

“What is it?”

“Uh...” Nick looked over the can. “Natural light.”

“That's probably why Travis gave it to us.” Griffin dug through his bag, fishing out a few red cans. “It's cool, I thought of that. I grabbed some cokes too. To get the taste out.”

“You really are a professional drug boy,” Nick joked, taking a can.

Griffin shrugged, smiling, and started on his own. Yeah, not great. He fished around in the bag to see if there was anything else. A few other brands, but all of them cheap. Whatever, it would work.

“Am I cool yet?” Nick asked as he rattled the (now empty) can.

“Woah, dude, slow down a little –“ Griffin cautioned as he took the can and tucked it into the bag. “Don't get too fast too furious.”

They passed some time like this, idle chatter and the occasional shuffling of the plastic bag filling the quickly darkening night air. Finally, as Nick cracked into his third, he sighed. “Griff, is this lame?”

“What?”

“Is this lame? I mean, we're just drinking in the woods alone – shouldn't it be, I mean, I don't know, at like... a party?”

“I mean...” Griffin swirled his own can around, feeling the contents shift. “This is probably... safer. So you can decide if you want to be a crazy teen. You told me you wanted to drink with me first. Remember?”

“Oh.” Nick was quiet for a second, then took another drink. “Is this... should I feel warm here?” he asked as he patted his chest.

“I mean... I usually do.”

“Okay. Good. It's not my heart being... mad.”

“Hate when that happens.”

“Yeah.”

More idle chatter. Nick finally yawned, eyes drooping. “I expected this to be... I dunno...”

“More fun?”

“Yeah.” He yawned again. “I'm just kinda... sleepy.”

“It's fun in a crowd. Or, it, uh...” Griffin swirled the can again, searching for words. “It makes you more fun? Dunno.”

“It's making me wanna sleep,” Nick yawned again, taking another sip. “Griff?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you know... you know...” he leaned back on the tree, eyes drooping. “Music stuff?”

“I've heard of it.”

“Like the festivals and stuff.”

“Music festivals?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, I know about music festivals. Why?”

“Do you know about the Bonaroo one?”

“Dude, get to the point, c'mon –“

“I could get us tickets to Bonaroo.”

Griffin blinked. They were a month away from Bonaroo, tops. Any tickets sold would be crazy expensive. “What?”

“I have an uncle.”

“Dude.”

“He could get us in, for like, it's like 35$, because we're so late... and we might not get a hotel, but I have a tent, and...”

“Nick, stop.” Griffin was beaming. “I'm in. I'm absolutely in, are you kidding me? Dude!” he had always wanted to go to Bonaroo, but never had the time or money. Not to mention anyone to go with. “Are you being serious?”

“Yeah, Griff.” He had a big goofy smile, like he was proud of himself. “Think about, think about it... a weekend with just you n' me, and music, and nobody to get in the way of us –“ He fumbled with the tab on a new can, excitedly slurring a list of things they could do together. Griffin noticed this, and something registered: Nick had been drinking a lot faster then him.

“Hey, Nick, buddy –“

“No. I have more stuff...”

“Nick...”

“To talk about.”

Nick's face was changing. His former giddiness had faded out, replaced with something thoughtful. Something upset. Griffin already knew what was going to happen.

“Just, while we're here, and I... I think we need to talk about... college.”

Of course. “Nick, we're having a good time, we shouldn't –“

“Griffin, we gotta talk about it.” Nick was looking at him earnestly.

“... Okay, fine.” Griffin leaned back against the tree, staring up at the sunset, down at the cans on the ground, at the tree behind him, but not at Nick. “What.”

“You... you know what most couples do, right?”

Dread started to creep into the pit of his stomach. “I mean...”

“Griff...” He heard Nick shift forward. “They break... they stop. They don't stay together.”

He felt the dread creep up more, felt himself get sick from it. “Nick, don't –“

“Or they try to, and they fail.”

_“Nick –“_ He half-growled, dread turning itself into anger.

“I... I love you, but –“

“We aren't talking about this.” Griffin was deadly serious. His stomach was in knots, and he briefly considered throwing up. “Let's go. We need to get back inside.”

“You're not gonna...”

“Nick, you're _really drunk_ right now. This conversation can wait.”

“So're you.”

“Yeah, but...” he just stood, tottering, grabbing Nick by the elbows to help him up. “C'mon, we gotta go –“

“I wanna go to Bonaroo with you.” Nick slurred as he shifted, struggling to get his feet under him. “Wanna go to Bonaroo with you, and it'll just be us, and music, and we can stay in hotels – I have tickets, y'know, or I could get em, I have an uncle...”

“Yeah bud.” His annoyance was mounting. Stay on one anxiety inducing topic at a time, please.

Nick barely stayed upright, throwing an arm over Griffin and stumbling after one step. “I wanna go there with you... and we could just be there, for like, a week... live in a hotel together... or in, or in a tent... sleep on the grass... you n' me, Griff...”

“Yeah, bud.”

“You n' me. One last time.”

He'd let it get away from him again. Just like the first time. Griffin was, once again, the more sober one, and Nick was, once again, saying things that he desperately wanted to believe that could easily just be the alcohol. Struggling with the door, he carefully navigated them into the basement, nearly impossible with Nick acting as dead weight. He set his boyfriend down on the couch and moved to sit on the chair, but he suddenly felt a clumsy hand on his wrist pulling on him. “Nick, cut it out.”

“Say it back.”

“Cuttit _out –“_ Griffin whined, pulling his wrist away with no success.

“Do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Do you love me too?”

Griffin stopped struggling to get away. Nick was looking up at him, half-pleading. He could only stare back. Why was he doing this now? Asking him to say I love you after telling him they would break up?

“Griff, do you...”

“Yeah.” Griffin admitted, stomach twisting, reaching up to take the hand on his arm. “I do. I love you too.”

“That's pretty cool,” Nick said, beaming up at him.

“Yeah...” Griffin paused, looking down at him, something in him screaming that this was wrong. “It is.”

“... C'mere.” He pulled his arm one more time, and Griffin surrendered, flopping down on the couch next to him. Nick sloppily pressed a kiss to his cheek, soliciting a smile despite the stew of emotions he was trying to sort through at the moment.

“Dude, gross, that's like... did you just lick me?”

Nick smiled goofily. “Kinda.”

“Yuck.”

“Yeah.”

Griffin flopped back, grabbing the other around the torso and pulling him down too. Fuck it. Why sort through the future when he had him here right now? “I wanna go to Bonaroo with you too.”

“Y'do?”

“Yeah. I wanna hang out with you, and live in a hotel, and... do all the other stuff you said.”

“God. Good. Thank God, Griff, cause I already got us tickets, and we should, y'know, do a hotel, or...”

“That's later.” Griffin cuddled down into his shoulder. “Go to sleep.”

“No, no, I'm not...” but he trailed off, and was soon fast asleep.

Griffin just watched him for a while. Why was Nick facing reality so soon? It was almost halfway through the summer, they still had plenty of time, why bother with... he carefully fished his phone out of his pocket, clicking through to the timer. Five weeks. 35 days. 842 hours. 50,354 minutes. 3,024,586 seconds. That was still a big number, he told himself. He saw the seconds tick past faster then he could even comprehend them and knew he was lying to himself.

 

Griffin's eyes fluttered open. Nick was still fast asleep, his chest rising and falling evenly, slightly lifting his head with each breath. He felt peaceful for a moment before he felt a deep ache behind his eyes. “Fuck...”

Under him, he felt Nick stir. “Griff? What's...”

“Shh, shh, no, keep your eyes –“ Griffin reached up, now blindly, having screwed his own back shut. He found Nick's face and covered his eyes. “Shh. Just trust me.”

“What are you...” He pulled his hand away. Griffin heard him hiss in pain and turn away from the light streaming in through the window. He felt his breath now, their noses practically touching, both of them with eyes screwed up against the light. They were facing each other. His eyes opened just a sliver and he looked at Nick, a little pale, hair messy. Even with his face scrunched up like that he was cute. Completely unfair.

“Hold on, there should be...” Griffin pushed himself up and reached over Nick, fishing around blindly. His fingers wrapped around a plastic bottle. “Alright, we gotta sit up.”

“Griffin, I think I'd rather die.”

“C'mon.” Griffin nudged him, soliciting a pained groan.

“This _sucks,_ ” Nick whined as he slowly sat up. “Griff, I don't like... this was a bad drug.”

“Yeah bud.” Sitting up beside him, he handed him the bottle. “Just drink a lot of that.”

“What is it?”

“Water, dummy.”

“Oh, thank God,” Nick struggled to twist off the cap, throwing the bottle back and chugging nearly half of it in one go. He handed the bottle over, wiping his lip with his sleeve. “Thanks.”

“Mh.” Griffin took a drink himself. “There should be more down here...” he dropped off as Nick stood, stumbling to his feet. “What are you doing?”

“I'm gonna make you some coffee.”

“What?”

“It.. it helps, right?”

“I mean, yeah, it's supposed to, but –“

“Just sit tight.”

Nick disappeared upstairs. Griffin took another sip of his water, reviewing last night in his head. Thank God, he remembered everything. Even the unsavory things. He sighed, struggling against the pounding in his head, digging around to find the pack of water they kept in the basement. Wrestling two more free from the shrink wrap, he waited until he heard unsteady steps descending the stairs again. Nick tottered, carefully balancing the two cups in his hand. He handed one to Griffin. “Here.”

“Thanks.” Griffin blew on the brew, watching the steam fly away from him. “You're the best.”

“I know.” Nick took a sip, nose crinkling. “Yucky.”

“Yeah.” He leaned against him, taking his own sip.

They nursed their coffees for a while in a comfortable silence. Cups empty and headaches finally receding, they made their way to Griffin's car, passing the ride with only the soft, familiar sound of Carly Rae Jepsen between them. Pulling up to the familiar house, Nick leaned across the middle armrest and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thanks. See you tomorrow, Griff. Love you.”

Griffin had to process that. There were a lot of complicated ways to interpret that, but the way Nick was looking at him, he knew the right way: He'd meant it. He'd really meant it when he said it last night.

“I... I love you too.”

Nick shot him a smile and jumped out of the car, heading into his own house and waving goodbye one last time before the door shut and obscured him from view. Griffin sat for a while. He'd learned three very important things:

1, Nick loved him. Genuinely.

2, Nick wanted to take him to a music festival.

And 3, Nick was considering breaking up with him.

He didn't know if he hated Travis for those beers or loved him for it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> S/o to randombubblegum for letting me constantly pester her w beta stuff... shes literally the best yall like 100%... this fic would not exist/be the same w/o her... anyways keep it frosty


	4. Nine Hours of Busses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He'll stay out of our way at the festival. It's just, it's busing down and rooming with him.” He paused, noticing that Griffin still seemed pissed. “I'm sorry.”  
> “No, Nick, it's not your...” He pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance, trying to calm himself down. “It's not your fault.”

“You excited?”

“Dude,” Griffin buzzed into the phone, “I have never been _more_ excited.”

He turned into Nick's neighborhood, phone pressed between his shoulder and his ear. In the passenger seat was a draw-string bag full of clothes and vitals. Just enough for four, five days, if he stretched it. Nick's parents were letting him park on their street until Travis came to get the car. His mother was going to drive them to the bus station downtown, but from there out, they were busing their way down – completely on their own. Griffin didn't know which part of it he was more excited for – the festival or the independence. They went hand in hand, he decided, pulling onto Nick's street.

“And guess what?”

“What?”

“I, uh, I have a surprise for... you.”

Griffin lit up. “What?”

“I... can't tell you!”

“Aww, Nic-o-las...”

“Then it's not a surprise.”

_“Nic-o-las...”_

“I can see your car.” Griffin saw a figure several houses away start to wave. “Can you see me? I'm waving.”

“I can see you, goobus. I'm hanging up. Fuck, dude, I'm excited!”

“Me too, Griff.”

He ended the call, tossing his phone in the seat with his stuff. Pulling over and parking, he leaned out the window. “Am I good here, Mrs. Robinson?”

“That's fine, sweetie,” she said as Griffin hopped out of the car, bag in tow.

“Thank you so much for letting me park here, by the way.”

“Not a problem. Thanks for keeping an eye on my boys!”

“Aww, it's no...” He took a second to process that. “... Boys?”

“Uh... I, uh, said there was a surprise, right?” Nick said, obviously regretful. “The surprise... the surprise is... Porter.”

_Are. You. Fucking. Kidding. me._ “Porter?”

“He's coming with us!”

“Isn't it great?” His mother asked, ruffling her son's hair. “They have the same tastes, and his uncle scrounged up three tickets, so I thought, why not?”

“No, yeah.” Griffin was in physical pain. “It's a great idea. Thanks, Mrs. Robinson.”

“No problem!” She glanced back towards the house, then at her watch. “We're going to be late, let me go get him... Porter!” She turned and went back into the house. The second she was out of earshot, Nick turned to him.

“I'm so so sorry.”

“ _Nick,”_ he hissed, furious, “why didn't you _tell me this?_ ”

“Because I didn't know either, okay? Look –“ he leaned in, dropping his voice to a whisper even though nobody would hear them. “We're still gonna have a good time, okay? Porter only... kinda sucks. He'll stay out of our way at the festival. It's just, it's busing down and rooming with him.” He paused, noticing that Griffin still seemed pissed. “I'm sorry.”

“No, Nick, it's not your...” He pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance, trying to calm himself down. “It's not your fault.”

“It's really gonna be fine.”

“Yeah.” Griffin did not believe him for a second.

“Alright, you boys ready?” His mother had returned, Porter in tow, obnoxious skull candy headphones on. He saw Griffin and jerked his head in a 'sup' motion. Griffin had a strange urge to punt him.

The ride to the bus station was uneventful. Some controlled yammering about how excited they were for the music, Porter not joining the conversation for a second. After a much fused-over goodbye from Nick's mother, they were settled on the first of many trains between Huntington, West Virginia and Manchester, Tennessee. They sat next to each other. Porter sat across from them. They were silent for a few seconds more, before Nick tried to break it.

“So, uh...”

“I am so _fucking excited,_ Nick.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, bud!”

“What... what are you excited for?”

“Dude, man...” He changed his tone, cheesed it up, put on his I'm-clearly-joking voice. “You _know_ I'm here for those comedy acts!”

Nick snorted. “Yeah, those, those... those joke folks.”

“Yeah. Joke folks.”

“Y'know, I'm actually going for U2.”

“You are?” He asked, excited.

“Yeah, I –“ Nick looked at him, realized he was serious. “Wait, are you?”

“What? I mean, yeah, I'm gonna see U2!” Griffin looked at him funny. “They're my good times jam!”

Nick snickered.

“What?”

“No, nothing, that's... sounds like a jam.”

“You have beef with U2?”

“It's just...” Nick leaned back, pretending to search for words. “My problem with their music is that it's bad, and not good.”

“Nicolas Robinson!” Griffin sat up, mock anger in his voice. “Don't come into _my_ house and disgrace my man, the love of my life, Bono!”

“Now is that his real name?”

“Yes. His full name is... Bono... Bono U2...” he scrambled for a last name. “Bono U2 Cooljams.”

“That's his real name?”

“Yes. It's his christian name.”

“That's interesting. And what's... what's the rest of U2 named?”

“Uh...” Griffin laughed. “Fuck. The edge... uh... guitarboy...”

“Guitarboy?”

“Yeah, guitarboy... look, fuck off, bud. What are you excited for?”

“Lorde.”

“Wait, really?”

“No, dude, I'm joking again.” Nick gave him a look, half incredulous, half amused. “You really... you like bad music, huh?”

“What?” Griffin was actually a little hurt at that. “Lorde is great!”

“Yeah, if you're a nerd.”

“Okay, asshole, who're you seeing?”

“Marshmello.”

“That's not real.”

“What?”

“You can't fool me. That's a fake name you just said. It's not real.”

“Marshmello is like, a huge EDM act –“

Griffin actually laughed at that. “You're into EDM, and you're calling me a nerd?”

“What!”

“I said –“

“No, I heard you, EDM is not nerdy!”

“Don't get pissy!”

“I'm not, I'm just saying, it's not –“

Across the aisle, Porter peeled off a headphone. “EDM?”

“No, Porter.”

He just shrugged and put the headphone back on.

 

They had underestimated how boring nine hours of buses were. Interrupted only by the occasional mad scramble for the next stop, the boys spent most of their time playing DS (until both died,) messing around on their phones (which also died,) and finally resorted to talking to each other. Griffin even tried to strike up a few conversations with Porter, but his results were less then fruitful. Pulling up to the stop by their hotel felt like a gift from God. Piling off the nearly empty train, they made the trek to their hotel through the dry Tennessee night. As soon as they set their things down in the room, Griffin flopped onto the bed, groaning. “I never want to look at another bus.”

Nick hummed in response, crossing to the couch and searching it over. “Porter, come help me open this thing.”

“Why?”

“So you can sleep on it.”

“Why do I have to sleep on the couch?”

“Because... I mean, do you want to cuddle with me and Griffin?”

“Ew, no.”

“We can read you a bedtime story –“ Nick teased.

“Stop, you're so weird.”

“Just like mom and dad do when you get scared because you have scary dreams –“ Nick cooed, obviously mocking him.

“Oh my God, never mind!” Porter searched the couch over and pulled on a handle, popping the bottom out. “There. I don't get why you get the bed.”

“Because I'm older.”

“I'm telling mom if I hear anything gross.”

“Ew, dude, I'm not gonna do that if you're in the – shit, we have to call mom, huh?”

“You can.” Porter flopped back on his newly-made bed. “I'm sleeping.”

Nick rolled his eyes. Griffin watched from the bed as he picked up his phone and punched in his mothers number. Shit, he should probably shower, right? He had major bus-stink. He got up, yawning as he started the shower and fished the soap out of his bag. With the water pressure being garbage, he could hear their conversation through the door.

“Yeah, mom, the bus was fine. We're here safe. Porters fine, he's just tired. Yeah, we're still excited. Griffin's fine. Ew, mom. Gross.”

He laughed at that. Nick's mother was always suspect of them. Well, she probably had a reason. Maybe a few. He finished up quickly and crawled into bed. “You showering?”

“One sec.” Nick held his hand over the receiver. “My mom wants to talk to you.”

“Mmph.” He reached out for the phone. “Go shower. I'll talk to her while you're in there. You stink.”

“Thanks.” He uncovered the receiver. “Hey, mom, just wanted to say goodnight. I'm gonna hand you over to Griffin and go shower, cool? Yeah. Yeah. Okay mom. Okay. Love you too.” He handed the phone over, kissing Griffin on the forehead before dragging himself out of bed to collect his soap and towels.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Griffin! Are they behaving themselves?”

“Of course they are. Don't worry, I'd tattle on them so hard.”

“You're sure?”

“Yes, Mrs. Robinson. I love me some laws.”

She laughed a little at that. “Okay. I'm sorry, I just want to be sure that you boys are safe –“

“Mhm.”

“This is the longest either of them have gone away from home without me or their dad...”

“Mhm.”

“And I just... I worry about them, okay?”

Griffin softened. She really was a nice lady. Even with putting Porter on their trip last minute. “Don't worry. I'll keep an eye on them.”

“You're such a nice young man, Griffin.” He could hear her smiling through the phone. “Thanks for taking care of them.”

They hung up soon after that. Nick flopped down in the bed beside him, hitting the lights on the way. “Guess Porter just isn't showering.”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry about my mom. She's kinda... helicopter-y.”

“Dude, I love your mom,” Griffin said as he rolled over to face the other, eyes adjusting to the dark. He reached out, running a hand through wet hair. “She's nice.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmm.” Nick sighed, eyes shut, pressed into the pillow. “Keep playing with my hair like that.”

“What's the magic word?”

“Oh my God, fuck off...” he huffed out a laugh. “Please.”

He hummed in response, continuing to twist his fingers through the other's hair. “Gross.”

“You like it.”

“Yeah.”

There was white noise for a second. The faint hum of electricity, the cars outside, their own breathing – just quiet, just peaceful. Everything negative melted away. He looped his arms around Nick and snuggled into his chest, feeling Nick's chin on top of his head. “I'm excited for this.”

“Me too.” He felt him press a kiss to the top of his head, felt him let it linger. “G'night. Love you.”

He smiled. “Love you too.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys... as of tomorrow im handing the reins over to Sydney, because I'm going to be with my family for fourth of July and have no way to post otherwise. I have (or at least will have lmao rip) everything written and she's just posting it. Basically Sydney is a g thank u. anyways i hope everyone has a ballin fourth of july and i hope you enjoy the rest of the fic my dudes :,)


	5. How to Find your Emo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You always like the gay ones, Mags,” the boy who had called him over teased.  
> “I mean, he's not –“ Griffin started.  
> “Chill, I'm not moving in on your man.” She gave him a lopsided grin. “Unless you're both into that kinda stuff.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya, it's Sydney!! I'm just posting this chapter for cuckgamesinc while they're away. Enjoy!

They'd lost Porter.

It was the third day of Bonaroo, and every other day had gone off without a hitch – Porter would split off from the group at the start of the day and meet back at the tent at 11. It was midnight. Nick paced, trying his phone again.

“I think it's dead,” he decided as he pocketed his phone, voice spilling over with dread. “Fuck, dude, I think it's dead, this place is huge, he could be _anywhere,_ he could be –“

“Look, Nick, just calm down – he probably just got, I dunno, distracted, or –“

“What if he's doing drugs?”

“You do drugs.”

“HARD drugs, Griffin!”

“Look, let's just start picking over everything. He wouldn't leave, right?”

“No, he's...” Nick trailed off, gnawing his thumbnail in anxiety. “He's not that dumb...”

Griffin placed a gentle hand on his back. “Okay then. Let's start looking.”

“But what if he makes it back to the tent and he –“

“Nick, if he hasn't made it back by now, he won't find his way back before we find him.” Griffin took his hand, feeling it shake. “Let's go.”

Combing the festival, Griffin caught sight of the (now empty) stage that they had seen Lorde play at. He sighed.

_“Griff?”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“Why do you always listen to sad stuff?”_

_“It's not sad, dude, it's just not loud.”_

_“It's kinda sad.”_

_“It's... okay, yeah, this is kinda sad, but most of the stuff I listen to isn't.”_

_“Mmm...”_

_“Shut up.” They were sitting in the grass, chatting idly over the music. He threw an arm over Nick's shoulder, eyes still on the stage._

_“Griff, I'm hungry.”_

_“Shoulda ate before the set started.”_

_“C'mon, Griff, can't I just –“_

_“Dude, I know you're just trying to get out of listening to this.”_

_“No, it's...”_

_His annoyance was starting to build. “Dude, whatever.” He removed his arm. “Go get something, Whatever.”_

_As Nick got harder and harder to pick out of the crowd, he eventually turned back and watched the music. He couldn't just stand to sit and listen to something he didn't like, huh? What a fuckin' baby._

 

“Porter!” Nick yelled, combing the crowd. “PORTER!”

“Dude, shh, I think we should just go to the first aid tent, and –“

“Do you think he's hurt?”

“No, Nick, I think that's just the first place you're supposed to go.”

“Maybe...” Nick checked the time. “Maybe he's still at the Marshmello stage...”

 

_At least they'd both agreed that forcing Griffin to listen to an EDM set was just cruel and unusual punishment._

_He sat off to the side, watching Nick just go buckwild. He looked like he was having a good time, but wowza, sweaty, screaming, and way too hype was not a good look on him. He felt a tap on his shoulder._

_A complete stranger was standing over him with a blunt. “Wanna hit?”_

_Griffin glanced back at Nick, then checked his watch. What the hell. He had a while. Nick certainly wouldn't notice he was gone. “Thanks, dude.”_

_He ended up sitting in a small circle, passing the blunt around as discretely as possible. There was a very pretty girl sitting next to him. She took a drag, then blew out, smoking like an artsy picture on tumblr. “I've seen you walking around.”_

_“Uh... yeah, I've been doing that.”_

_“You sound different.” She handed the blunt over and leaned back on her hands. “You from Tennessee?”_

_“West Virginia.”_

_“That's a bit of a trek.”_

_“Mmm.” He couldn't really talk with the blunt in his mouth._

_“Where's that boy you're always walking around with?”_

_The way she said it made something in him panic, made him inhale wrong, made him start to choke. This elicited a laugh from the group, and Griffin passed it on quickly before turning back to her. “Who?”_

_“The boy. Long on one side, short on the other. I only ever see you with one boy.”_

_“I'm amazed you remember us.”_

_“Yeah, okay, dude. What's his name.”_

_“Nick. Why?”_

_“Friend of yours?”_

_“Uh, kinda.” Griffin wasn't high enough yet to not feel sheepish. “Boyfriend.”_

_“Aww, shit,” she said, tipping her head back and laughing._

_“You always like the gay ones, Mags,” the boy who had called him over teased._

_“I mean, he's not –“ he started._

_“Chill, I'm not moving in on your man.” She gave him a lopsided grin. “Unless you're both into that kinda stuff.”_

_“Uh...” Griffin stood in a hurry. “I gotta go. Thanks for... thanks for the cool weed, here's...” he fished out a dollar and threw it on the ground. “I didn't smoke much, so just... just have a good... goodbye.”_

_Restraining himself from booking it, Griffin made his way back to the set as it was ending. Nick wormed out of the crowd and threw an arm around his shoulder. “God, Griffin, I LOVE EDM!”_

_“I can tell,” he managed, stomach still turning._

_“What did you –“ he leaned in, sniffing Griffin's shoulder. “Aww, you did a cool weed, huh?”_

_“Yeah, I...”_

_“C'mon. Shit, Griff, I need water, I was yelling so much... my throat hurts.”_

_“Yeah.”_

_But looking at him, he had to wonder, what if it had been Nick over there and not him?_

_The thought abstracted out further. What was it going to be like when it was only ever Nick, and he was almost a state away, knowing Griffin would never find out?_

 

“Sir, sir!”

The (slightly annoyed) Bonaroo staff member turned to face them. “What's up, did he drop acid at the Major Lazer set too?”

“What? No! It's, it's my, my brother! My brother? Porter?” seeing the other's blank expression, he desperately started to gesture. “he has... he looks a little like me, he, he, he's fifteen, he's wearing a shirt with a marshmallow man with, with crossed out eyes... and he's pale, and like –“ he held his hand up to about a head shorter then him. “He's this tall?”

“When did you lose him?”

“God, he was supposed to meet us...” Nick checked his phone for the time. “An hour and a half ago...”

“You've tried calling him?”

“I think his phone died.” Nick pocketed his phone, looking like he wanted to cling to the man's sleeve and beg. “Sir, please, if you've seen _anything –_ “

“Alright, alright.” The staff member turned over his shoulder, shouting to the only other person there. “You seen any kids?”

“What?”

“Kids, like... 15, yay high, a little like this guy...” he pointed at Nick.

“Uh... maybe over there? I saw one walk by, but honestly, you described half the people here.” He pointed towards a clearing with some closed up food vendors. It was mostly deserted at this point.

“Okay... okay. Thank you. Thank you!” Nick grabbed Griffin's arm and bolted.

 

_They were both sitting in the shade of one of the sparse trees, splitting a funnel cake. Griffin was still somewhat on edge from the encounter with the girl, trying to relax to the sound of the Weeknd playing on the nearby stage. Not bad, but not totally to his taste either._

_“Griff.”_

_“Yeah?” He responded, head swiveling towards his boyfriend._

_“Do you want to hurry and eat this and get a good spot for Cage the Elephant, or just kinda chill here and –“ he stopped mid-sentence as Griffin licked his face. “Griffin McElroy! What are you –“_

_“You had powdered sugar up on there, my dude,” he responded with a smile._

_“Ew. Gross. That's gross. You suck.” Nick wiped his face with his sleeve._

_“Aww, you don't mean that.”_

_“I do!” Nick twisted off another bite of funnel cake and used it to point accusingly at the other. “The only thing I miss about girls is that... they don't suck... and they don't lick your face in, uh, public.” He popped the cake in his mouth and talked as he chewed. “You're gross.”_

_Griffin ribbed back, attempting to hide the fact that his stomach had dropped through the ground. “The only thing I miss about girls is how they don't talk and chew at the same time.” He playfully reached out and grabbed the underside of Nick's jaw, pushing it up as to close it. Nick grinned dumbly at him, powdered sugar crusting his mouth. Griffin laughed. “Dude, you're the gross one.”_

_Nick just hummed and leaned in for a kiss. Griffin rolled his eyes, but granted his request before dropping his jaw and getting back to work on the funnel cake._

_“...Hey, Griff?” the other asked, suddenly a little more quiet. “Do you... know your like... like your word yet?”_

_“My what?” Griffin asked through a mouthful._

_“Your word.” He shrugged, a failed attempt at nonchalant. “Like... bisexual, or... one of the other ones that I totally, uh, know.”_

_“...I mean...” Griffin set the rest of his bite on his plate. Shit, and they were just having a good time, huh? “I don't. I honestly gave up. I googled and junk, but I mean... too much work, I didn't really care. Is that weird?”_

_“No, cause... good. Cause I haven't either.” Nick looked genuinely relieved._

_“Do you wanna know?”_

_“I mean...” he suddenly wasn't making eye contact. “It'd be nice.”_

_Griffin froze up. This was his queue to say something, to comfort him. But he had no idea what to say. I mean, it was his fault, right? There'd be nothing to question if they hadn't ended up together. Probably. This was partially his problem, and he wanted to fix it, but..._

_“You'll get it someday, dude.”_

_Nick sighed. “Hopefully.”_

_Griffin felt guilt well up in his stomach. When did people usually figure it all out? College, right? Shit, college... maybe he was holding him back with this. Maybe Nick needed space, and time, and a way to sort things out... Griffin just stared at him for a second before Nick noticed, suddenly rising to his feet and grabbing the plate with a too-big smile._

_“C'mon. We can finish these on the way.”_

 

“Porter! PORTER!” Nick shouted, entering the small ring of food stands. He started to check behind them, finally startling as he found a small cowering figure behind one of them. “Porter!”

Griffin watched as he ran up to his brother, going to grab him, but then noticing something and stopping. He was a ways away now, so it was hard to hear, but he could have sworn he heard snatches of “just breathe...” and “It's okay, I'm here...” Griffin turned away. He knew what was happening. Nick had told him about his little brother's panic attacks. Watching it felt too personal.

When he looked back again, Porter was clumsily rising to his feet with the help of his brother. Nick looked immensely relieved. He turned back to Griffin, one arm steadying the other. “Griff, do you still have water?”

“Shit, uh...” Griffin dug around until a plastic bottle surfaced. “Here.” He trotted over, handing the bottle over. Porter leaned against one of the poles holding up the vendor's tent and took steadier and steadier breaths as he sipped on it. Nick stood in front of him, smoothing his hair back, checking for injuries. “Are you okay? Can you tell me what happened?”

“I... I just... I guess I just got lost...” Porter managed, looking down into the bottle instead of meeting either of their eyes. “I don't know, I just...”

“It's okay. Look, it's okay. … I'm just really glad you’re safe.”

Porter looked up at his older brother, then hugged him, burying his face in his shoulder. Griffin thought he heard him mutter a “sorry,” but Nick only hummed back, so he couldn't be sure.

Griffin watched it all play out in a haze. It was probably a combination of the day, and the environment, and the fact that he was really tired. As they walked back to the tent, Nick with one hand on his brother's back to make sure he didn't stumble in his compromised state, Griffin had only one thought –

He wanted Nick Robinson to be happy.

Even if it meant he wasn't.  


	6. Help me Unpack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He almost wanted to rip the band-aid off and just take the wheel himself and drive the rest of the way there. Unpack his shit, say goodbye, block his number, know Nick was off to better things and hotter people and make eye contact across the room at their high school reunion and not really bring it up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sydney again, posting for cuckgamesinc while they're away!

It was August 15 th . They had borrowed a neighbor's truck, but honestly, they could walked if they wanted to. Marshall was one mile away from Huntington. Nick, who had only gotten his license a few days ago, had offered to drive him up. His suitcase and a few other bags sat in the back seat. The tension was hanging in the air so thick you could practically taste it.

_ “So... we're breaking up?” _

_ “I mean... it's not that, it's like... a future break up... thing.” Griffin's voice was low, trying not to disturb the few other people nodding off around them. “We're still together, just, when I move in...” It was 11. They were on the last of the trains to get home. _

_ “But it's a breakup.” _

_ He sighed. “Nick, when we're in college –“ _

_ “Oh.” _

_ “When we're in college, I want –“ _

_ “No, no, Griff, I get it, just –“ _

_ “No, listen –“ _

_ “No! Griff, I get it, really –“ Nick was clearly upset, despite his efforts to hide it. “That's... it's... it's probably for the best. You're right.” _

_ “So you're not... I dunno, mad?” _

_ “I'm...” Nick trailed off, breaking eye contact. “I'm not mad. I knew this was going to happen.” _

_ For some reason, Griffin almost felt relieved. “I'm really sorry, dude.” _

_ “No, yeah, it's cool... it's for the best.” He pulled out his phone, clicked through to something. “One more week.” _

_ “What?” _

_ “One more week, seven more days, 168 more hours, 10,082 minutes, 60,4838 seconds.” He clicked the phone off and pocketed it. “That's plenty of time.” _

_ He could tell Nick was near tears. For both of their sakes, he pretended he couldn't. _

 

Griffin was startled out of his thoughts by the truck taking a sudden, violent turn. “Nick, what the FU –“

“Sorry. I'm, uh, I'm hungry.” Nick's eyes were trained on the road, violently so, like if he tore them away the car would explode.

“Dude, we ate before we started driving, what are you –“

“I'm hungry again.” He pulled into a strip mall and pulled around to a small fast-food restaurant. “You, uh... you want... you... taco time?”

“What?” Griffin looked up at the building in front of them, realizing it was a taco bell. “Aww, dude, we just –“ but he spared a glance at Nick, who was staring up at the big purple bell, staring up like his life depended on it. “...Yeah, dude. Just go through the drive through, we can eat in the parking lot.”

They did. Soon, with a greasy bag between them, they were chewing in silence.

“Shit, ow,” Nick hissed out of nowhere.

“Hmm?”

“Uh, bit my lip.”

Silence again. The rustle of wax paper. Muffled chewing.

“Hey, Griffin?”

“Hmm?”

“Is this... is this kinda our, like, our last date?”

He swallowed. Hard. Oh yeah. “I mean... I guess it is.”

“It's kinda... fun.” Nick took another bite of his crunchwrap. “Remember... it was last year, and you took me to taco bell because I'd never been there before?”

Despite himself, he laughed. “Yeah. Jesus, you tried to sit inside –“

“How was I supposed to know?”

“I mean, you couldn't, right?” Griffin took another bite. “You were uncultured.”

“Right. Now I understand the cultural importance of the Taco Bell.”

“Right.”

“...Shit, dude, remember Dairy Queen?”

Griffin had to pause on that one. It had hit him like a wrecking ball. “I... yeah.”

“You had... we popped your trunk, and we had blizzards...”

“Nick...”

“Remember? Remember, I pulled out that tuft of your, your fake fur, ‘cause it was after Cats, and –“

“Nick...” his tone was a blend of cautionary and pleading.

“And you laughed, and you grabbed my collar, and you kissed me...”

_ “Nick...”  _ A slight edge of anger had crept in.

“I'm gonna miss, it, Griff. Shit. I'm gonna miss it,” he said, finally looking up and locking eyes with the other.

He melted under it. Griffin could only stand to look at him for a moment before he pretended his taco was more interesting. “I'm gonna miss you too.”

“...But it's for the best, right?” His artificial cheeriness was almost palatable.

“Yeah. It is.” This hurt. This hurt and Griffin didn't want to do it anymore. He didn't want to sit in the Taco Bell parking lot and lie to his boyfriend. Lie to his soon-to-be-ex. He almost wanted to rip the band-aid off and just take the wheel himself and drive the rest of the way there. Unpack his shit, say goodbye, block his number, know Nick was off to better things and hotter people and make eye contact across the room at their high school reunion and not really bring it up.

After what felt like ages, Nick turned back to the wheel and the car chugged to life. It didn't take five minutes until they pulled into the parking lot, unloading his stuff, signing in and getting room keys.

“Why do you even have to live on campus?”

“They have one of those shitty first-year policies,” Griffin explained as he lugged his suitcase up the stairs. “I'll move back in with my dad after this. It's just cheaper.”

“Yeah.” Nick watched as he fished the key out of his pocket and unlocked the door. The door swung open on a small, empty room – a few unadorned shelves, two shitty beds, two little desks. “Do you know your roommate?”

“Yeah, we talked a little. He seemed alright.”

“That's cool.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you... can I...” Nick lifted the bag, trying to ask something he couldn't find the words for.

“...Yeah, bud.”

They unpacked in silence. A few times, Nick asked what went where, or Griffin told him to put something on a different shelf, but otherwise silent. He wanted him to go. He wanted it to be over. He wanted to stop delaying the inevitable. And when the last bag was unpacked, Nick looked back at him, and he suddenly reversed his position.

He wanted him there forever. He wanted him to sit in his dorm with him, and study with him, because they were both in the same major, and they could get coffee after class and make sure neither stayed up to late and keep each other on track or distract each other – there were a thousand video games left unplayed together, a thousand conversations they hadn't had, a thousand little things they didn't do together. Shit, dude. This sucked.

“Guess I should go.”

“Yeah.”

“So we're still...” he dropped off, not knowing how to phrase it. “We're still, we're talking, right?”

“Yeah, no, of course we're still gonna talk, but now we're just... friends.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“No, yeah, that's smart. That's a good idea.”

“So, uh...” Griffin was at a loss of what to say.

“Yeah. I'll, uh, I'll see you later.”

“Yeah.”

What do you even do? Shake hands? Bump fists? A quick hand job? What's the sign-off here? How do you end something like this? This was a break-up, right? A break-up they didn't want, but that was better for both of them. Probably. Right? This was the right thing to do, right? … Right?

Nick walked up to him, untying the hoodie around his hips. He held it out to Griffin. “Here. Take this.”

“No, it's –“

“I'm not – Griffin, I'm not asking,” he said, sudden confidence, dropping the hoodie as soon as the other's fingers wrapped around it. He startled, grabbing the fabric before it slipped through his fingers completely, then felt two hands on either side of his face. Nick pulled him in and kissed him. Long and hard, but there was nothing sexual about it. Griffin would think he was the most confident guy in the world, but he felt his hands shaking slightly on either side of his face. When the other finally pulled back, they looked at each other for a second, then Nick sighed.

“I'll, uh... I'll see you later.”

Griffin watched him go, shutting the door behind him quietly. His brain was all TV static. He sat on his bed, stared at the wall, tried to clear his mind, but couldn't. Had he fucked up? Was it the right thing to do? Something in his pocket buzzed. He pulled out his phone.

August 15 th , 1:33. The timer was going off.

 

_ “So, here's the countdown in weeks –“ he pointed to a timer which just read '9 weeks until August 15 _ _ th _ _.' “which kinda sucks.” _

_ “Yeah, it does. What are you trying to –“ _

_ “No, look!” He hit another button. The screen now read '63 days until August 15 _ _ th _ _.' “A little better, right?” _

_ “...Well, yeah –“ _

_ “And here –“ he typed something else in. “1,512 hours.” _

_ “Okay, Griff –“ _

_ “90,720 minutes –“ _

_ “Griff –“ _

_ “and 5,443,200 seconds.” Griffin turned his phone off and turned to his boyfriend. “Which is kinda a lot of them.” _

_ Nick just looked at him for a minute, then laughed. “You're so... you're such a nerd.” _

 

They'd actually run out of time.


	7. The Chairs in the Corner of the Starbucks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I know it sounds super insecure.” Nick was tugging on the short hairs of his beard, nervous. “But I just want to know, y'know... why?"

Over time, the air got chilly. The trees changed and so did the flavors at starbucks. Time went on.

Griffin fit in well in college. He focused on his classes, of course, but he also partied a little. A lot. He was having plenty of fun, leave it at that. His roommate was pretty cool. His classes were challenging without being impossible. He made a lot of new friends. So despite a rocky move-in day, things were actually going pretty well.

He'd wear the hoodie on the (not-so-rare) occasions that he ran out of other laundry. He'd had a few questions about it – why a West Virginia University hoodie? It wasn't even for basketball or football of anything, why did he have it? He'd always just answer that he had a friend who went there. It wasn't a lie.

He visited his family often. Well, his dad. Justin had work. Travis was back at school. But being a mile away, Griffin made his way back home a few times a week. To the point where, now, on fall break, his father had just made a joke about never getting to see him, earning laughter from the rest of the family, who were sat down at Thanksgiving dinner.

“So how's school, Ditto?” Justin asked, passing a dish of sweet potato casserole.

“Aw, dude, you know. School stuff. I'm learnin.”

“You're going to class?” His father asked, accusatory.

“No, I just skip class and party all day.”

“Okay, smart-ass,” he grumbled, amused. “Tell me one new thing you learned in that college I'm shelling out thousands for you to go to.”

Griffin thought for a moment. “How to use a gravity bong.”

He earned riotous laughter from his brothers, and from his father too, until he suddenly stopped and turned to Justin. “Wait, what's that?”

“It's... it's a...” Justin snickered, glancing at his brother. “It's something... you use it to study.”

“You asshole.” He piled some more potatoes onto his plate. “Just don't do anything too crazy. Not like these two set a good standard –“ he jokingly scolded, pointing to Justin and Travis in turn. Justin shrugged. Travis didn't seem to notice, hunched over his plate like a starving dog.

“Have you met anyone?” Sydnee asked as she stabbed at a cut of turkey.

“Have I...” Griffin paused, looking up from his plate. “Have I what?”

“Have you met anyone?” She asked again, slightly confused.

“Oh, yeah, I've made friends. Buckets of em. I'm the coolest kid on campus.”

“She meant a girl, Griffin,” his father unhelpfully provided. “Or a boy, you know. Someone special,” he teased.

He almost stalled up, but a joke broke through the genuine anxiety that question caused. “Yeah. I have twelve girlfriends and a boyfriend for flavor.”

He earned another laugh from the table, and the conversation finally moved on. He almost sighed out loud in relief.

He'd had offers. He wasn't going to parties every day, and they usually weren't absolutely buckwild house parties (though a few were,) but when you're at parties often enough and at least a six sometimes someone hangs on your arm and hands you a drink. But he was never in the mood. It was odd, sometimes he'd find someone attractive, go up to them, talk to them – but never seal the deal. Texts and snapchats ended up left opened. They'd see him in class and try to talk, but he'd be too awkward to even bother with and eventually they'd give up. It had happened with a couple of a girls and a (somewhat smaller) handful of guys. It was to the point where he was starting to worry about himself. Maybe there was something wrong with him?

Of course, there was the easy answer. Nick. But he'd stopped thinking about Nick. They'd tried to text for a while, call every now and then, but it was just too weird. Too strained. They gave up after a while, which had brought Griffin down for a week, but he got back into the swing of things. He had old friends from high school and new friends from college. He was fine. It's a lot easier to deal with a problem you can't see. Yep, Nick was completely off his mind. Hadn't thought about the guy in forever. Except for every now and then. Like every time someone flirted with him. That was a weird coincidence, huh?

Eventually, they migrated to the living room. Justin and Sydnee left to go to her family's thanksgiving, leaving the rest of them to sleepily chatter over the background noise of a football game.

Griffin was about to actually snooze when his phone buzzed. It was a text from Nick.

'hey. Im in town'

He didn't really know what to do with that. Cautiously, he texted him back. 'me too.'

'So do you want to get coffee or something?'

His fingers hovered over the buttons.

'Griff?'

'Yeah, tomorrow at noon.'

'cool'

That was the first time they'd spoken in a month.

 

He drummed his fingers on the side of his paper cup. He'd bought something fairly cheap. He didn't like fancy coffee that much. He didn't mind it, but he... he... he couldn't maintain this train of thought anymore. Fuck, he was nervous. Sick-to-his-stomach nervous. Unable to drink his coffee nervous. Okay, focus on the coffee. Focus on the coffee, and don't think about –

Nick sat down across from him, his own paper cup in hand. “Uh, hey.”

“Hey, buddy!” Griffin exclaimed, drawing out the hey a little too long. “What's up, dude, how've you been? How's college?”

“Oh, uh, I've been alright.” Nick shifted a little in his seat. “College is, uh, it's pretty cool.”

“Aww, dunk, man!” He felt himself being fake and couldn't stop. “You been... you read those books?”

“Yeah, I've, uh, I've read a few of them.”

“Aww, bro, sick!”

“Uh, yeah.”

This wasn't what he wanted to say. This was joke Griffin, this was the him he used to make people laugh, it was a caricature, it wasn't who he needed right now. But the idea of being honest right now was scary. It's easy to forget a problem when you can't see it, but it only lets the problem grow in the meantime. Now the problem was looking at him, concerned.

“Griff?”

“Uh, yeah?”

Nick had grown out his beard a little. He wasn't wearing those glasses anymore, maybe he had contacts in? It made him look older. It was a really good look.

“Griffin?”

“Yeah, what?”

“Did you hear me? I asked if you were okay.”

“What? Pssh, yeah, dude, I'm fine!” He shifted back in his seat, trying to casually take a sip of his coffee. “How's college?”

“You... you already asked that.”

“Oh, oh yeah. Duh.”

“It's still going great.”

Griffin snorted at that. A genuine laugh. Well, shit, that was a start. “Sorry, I'm a little out of it. It's just been a while, I guess.”

“Yeah. I'm sorry we, uh, that we stopped talking.” Nick leaned back in his chair and took a sip of his coffee. “I just kinda wanted to... uh... I don't really know, like there's a weird... like are we beefing, or...”

“No, no! We're not beefing, no –“ He felt himself relaxing and leaned forward in his chair. Maybe he could do this. “Course not, Nick.”

“I mean, things ended on a weird note.”

“Yeah.”

“And if it's cool, I just kinda want to... talk about it?”

Griffin had to think on that for a moment. Was it cool? It was kind of the absolute opposite of what he wanted to discuss. But the rational side of him knew that unless they cleared the air on this, everything else would just be awkward and impossible. “I... yeah. Yeah, let's just kinda... get this out of the way.”

“Okay.” Nick breathed a sigh of relief. “So, remember when you first brought it up...”

“I didn't bring it up.” Griffin corrected, cutting him off. “You brought it up.”

“What?”

“That time in the woods, with the beer, and you –“

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah, it was you!” Griffin gave him a confused look. “Don't you re... oh.”

“Uh...” Nick smiled, a little sheepish, and shrugged. “Guess not.”

“Oh, dang, dude... yeah, you talked about how people always... like they broke up before college, and...”

“Griff, I was drunk. I didn't mean it. It was... it was really just something I was worried about.” Nick sighed, swirling his coffee. “I didn't – look, I wanna talk about the bus.”

“Uh... yeah, sure, shoot.”

He looked like he had trouble finding the words for this part. “So, I mean... I guess I just want to know, uh, really, kinda... why?”

“What?”

“I know it sounds super insecure.” Nick was tugging on the short hairs of his beard, nervous. “But I just want to know, y'know... why? You never really said. Just kinda, y'know, kinda said it should happen.”

Griffin's heart dropped. He thought Nick knew. He'd thought Nick had known this whole time, Jesus, that's the only reason he'd gone through with it –

“Griffin?”

“B...because...” Where to even start? Shit, he felt like an idiot. “Do you remember? Earlier in the day, that day, or maybe it was the day before? We had this talk about... I don't know. You talked about not having your word.”

“My word?”

“Your bi or pan or whatever word. You know, your word!” Griffin gestured to him, shoving down panic. “You talked about not knowing what you were. You seemed upset about it. And, because of that thing you said when you were drunk, I just figured... I mean, I wanted you to figure it out. I wanted you to know what you were. It's complicated, you know? It's one of those things that you kinda have to test. I thought you were trapped.” He paused, looking at Nick for any indication of how he felt. All he saw was slight concern, so he tried to explain further. “Like... I was the first guy you were with. You didn't know if you'd like other guys. So you stayed with me, because I was a sure thing, and –“

“Griff,” Nick said softly, stopping him. “You really thought that?”

“I...” he trailed off, shocked at the other's tone. “I mean, yeah, dude. I know I'm alright. But I always just figured –“

“Griff, I thought _you_ were sick of _me._ ” Nick rubbed a hand over his face like one would if they hadn't slept in several days. “I spent all this time worrying that you, that you _hated_ me, just because...” he straightened. “I'm gonna be straight-edge now. Because every time I'm not sober, I fuck up our relationship for like a month.”

“Uh, what?”

“Griffin, I wasn't sick of you. I don't care about a word. I mean, it would be nice to know, but I don't _really_ care. Not enough to break up over it.”

“But don't you want to –“

“Griff, every time someone flirts with me, I just turn them down! I still, I'm not interested in other people!” Nick's head dropped into his hands. “I thought it was just because I didn't have closure. Dude, I can't believe this, I can't believe I ever made you think...”

It felt like everything was delayed by five seconds. Like it took a little longer to reach his brain then it probably should have. As it all loaded in, he felt like the biggest idiot in the world.

“Griff, I'm so sorry, I didn't realize I...”

“Stop. Dude.” He reached out, experimentally, and took the other's hand. “I fucked up.”

“What?”

“I misread stuff. I got in my own head about things. I wasn't... I didn't... I fucked it up,” he finally decided, shrugging a little. “I would have never broken things off if I'd known what it was doing to you. I still like you, dude.” He looked at the hand in his and made a decision. “I still love you.”

There was silence between them for a moment.

“Shit, I feel stupid.”

 

At that, Nick just started laughing. “God, Griffin,” he managed, covering his face with his hand, “We're dumb. We're so dumb, Griff, we suck –“

“C'mon, bud, this ones on me, I really kinda bungled it on this end –“

“We both did! We both did, okay, just –“ Nick laughed again. “The, the... God, dude, we _suck_ at this...”

Griffin smiled, still a little bit in shock. “I... yeah, dude, we kinda do, huh?”

“So, we're... what are we doing? What are we?”

“Aww, just two really tight bros, right?”

“Yeah, two really tight bros. I love when – I love when my bro holds me in his arms while we talk about our deepest insecurities, just, like, _really_ late into the night –“

“Just bro things. You know.”

They looked at each other for a second, everything settling in. “Hey, Nick?”

“Yeah?”

“I missed you, dude.”

Nick just smiled. “I missed you too.”

 

 

Over time, the weather got even colder. The leaves fell off the trees and the flavors at Starbucks changed.

Griffin still did well in college. He went to his classes, he partied a little, etc. But one more thing found its way into his routine.

“So there's an outback right between us –“

“Nope.”

“Money?”

“Money.” Griffin adjusted the angle of his phone so Nick's screen wasn't just a picture of his slightly unkempt double-chin. “Can't you just come down? We can eat at my dads.”

“Yeah, you fuckin... you nerd. That's a hot date. Dinner with your dad.”

“Okay, asshole, what's your idea?”

“There's a cheap taco place?” Nick clicked around on the map he was looking at. “Yeah, looks cheap enough...”

“How close is it to the bus stop?”

“Yeah, I'm out of gas money too.” Nick sighed and scrolled around on the map some more. “A block or two.”

“Okay. Good. Sounds like a date.” Griffin scribbled a note down on a sticky pad and stuck it to the wall. “Saturday?”

“Saturday.” Nick smiled, snapping his laptop shut. “Dude, I'm excited, I missed you last week –“

“It's cool, I get it. Finals stuff.”

“Almost winter break though.”

“You excited for some candlenights time?”

“Yeah. You wanna know what my present is?”

“Is it me?”

“You – fuck you, dude, stepping on my punchline, what the fuck –“

Griffin laughed at his little fit, adjusting the textbook on his lap. “Aww, Nic-o-las, it was still a pretty good joke –“

“Fuck you. Joke thief. Go away. I liked it better when you were gone and not here.”

“Alright.” Griffin mimed like he was going to end the facetime.

“Wait wait wait! No, Griff I still –“

“Yeah?”

“You suck.”

Griffin smiled. “Yeah. Night, Nick. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

With that, he ended the call and turned back to his homework.

 

Maybe things might just work out for them.

Maybe they could swing the whole high school sweethearts bit.

With Nick, he was fairly sure they would.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading my dudes. Keep it real. probably wont do another series in this universe, but some little oneshots might pop up here and there. i already talked abt my next project on twitter tho :,) stay cool


	8. unfortunate news

hey. i know this one isnt as well loved as the other (fair tbh) but after what nick did i want yall to know that it's going to be taken down and if you want it, download it. this and the other fics on my page will be up for one more day before i delete them and the account entirely. sorry about the short notice but im just not at peace with keeping the account up with what went down. yall seem cool though. sorry this happened, i know a lot of people invested a lot in the guy. wishing yall the best,   
-cuckgamesinc

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys!! I'm back :,)  
> Hopefully I'll be able to stick to my one chapter a day schedule, but that's unlikely as I'll be out of state for fourth of July. (This is gonna be a shorter fic, but not all THAT shorter.) So I'll either slam them all out now and post them all before or make yall wait. Sorry! Anyways, as I said, this is a sequel to how Nick learned to love theater, so there's gonna be a few things in there that might not make sense if you haven't read the first one. I'll try to keep that minimal though. Anyways I hope you guys enjoy and any criticism is welcome!


End file.
